


After the Storm

by Anya509



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: M/M, Nightmares, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Recovery, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:00:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23572753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anya509/pseuds/Anya509
Summary: After the storm, the only thing Laurent needs is Damen.
Relationships: Damen/Laurent (Captive Prince)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 106





	After the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Laurent has a nightmare about the Regent - enough said.

Laurent can’t move.

A large hand wraps around his throat in a bruising grip. The heat and pressure of those fingers makes him want to gag, if he could only spare a breath. Another hand – not his own – yanks and pulls at trouser laces until the fabric gives way and slips easily down his slender hips. The suddenly cool air makes him shiver, but not as much as the hand inching down his body. Goosebumps burst across his flesh.

He tries to hold back a whimper – it sounds pathetic to his own ears – that escapes him as the hand caresses him intimately. Intimately, but not tenderly, certainly not lovingly. There is nothing of love in these encounters, despite what his young, desperate mind once thought. No. This has only ever been about power and control. Laurent knows that now. He’s known for a long time. Unfortunately, power and control are something Laurent scrabbles desperately for still, clawing and scraping his way along the bottom, forging his own path of survival through sheer iron-will and stubborn determination. If he must crawl on his belly another time or two in the interim, so be it.

That doesn’t make it any easier.

He struggles when he’s finally pushed down onto a bed. He didn’t used to. He’s older now, stronger, his body no longer whip-thin and soft with childhood. He knows his uncle hates it. Can see the gleam of disdain in his eyes before he forces Laurent onto his stomach and shoves his face ear-deep in a pillow. His wrists are gathered and stretched upward. His fingers brush the cool metal of the bedframe and he, in his own defiant way, wraps them around the posts without prompting. After all, Laurent far prefers creating his own confinements than allowing someone else to do it for him.

Breathing becomes difficult for various reasons. One being the heavy body pinning him down, overheated flesh pressed against his own. The main reason he has trouble breathing is his rapidly beating heart. The adrenaline crashes through his veins with no outlet, making him shake. Primal instinct urges him to fight, to flee, but he can do neither. He knows what’s coming. Prepares himself for the awful pain. Steels his mind against the horror and shame that would have him crawling on his belly for a lifetime. The body on his shifts. Laurent squeezes his eyes shut –

“Hey. Laurent, wake up. _Laurent_.”

Laurent surges awake with frightening speed. Before he can fathom what’s going on, he stumbles from the bed and backs himself into the nearest corner, clutching a pillow to his chest in defense. His heart pounds so hard he can feel it vibrating through the fabric. Only then does he blink. Or breathe.

He’s not in his old bedchamber. His uncle is not hurting him. His uncle can’t hurt anyone ever again, because he’s dead. He’s been dead for years.

Laurent heaves out a breath. His eyes flicker to the bed where Damen sits tangled in the bedsheets, poised to move, but careful, hesitant. He doesn’t attempt to hide the worry on his face.

“Sorry,” Laurent mutters. He drags a hand down his face tiredly before moving slowly back to their bed. He perches on the edge, straight and tense. Anxiety continues buzzing through his nerves, but not because of Damen. Because Damen knows. He understands, as much as Laurent would prefer him not to. Having that conversation, years ago now, still tops the list of the most uncomfortable conversations they’ve ever had – and there have been many.

Dreams – nightmares – sneak up on Laurent every so often. For so long, he allowed for zero vulnerability, internally or externally. Damen changed all that. Once Laurent began opening himself up to new feelings, to new experiences, his mind decided to play catch-up as well. Years’ worth of repressed trauma apparently does not leave one unscathed. Laurent knows Damen changed him for the better. Intellectually, he knows. But at times like this, he has a hard time appreciating it.

Damen continues to be frustratingly understanding and doesn’t press Laurent to speak, even though he sits there for a long time. Eventually, Laurent feels calm enough to lay down. He settles on his side and Damen mirrors his position, watching him. There is so much love in his eyes. Sometimes Laurent feels he will drown from the intensity of it. At others, he can’t bare the thought of Damen ever looking at him any other way. Damen ensures him this will never happen, even though Laurent never asks.

Their hands slide together at some point. Laurent squeezes their laced fingers, conveying what he doesn’t have the words to express right now. That’s something he’s learned too. For Laurent, words are power; they are weapons, a line of defense. Only Laurent doesn’t need to defend himself around Damen, nor does he require weapons. By loving him, Damen has returned all the power and control so crudely stripped from Laurent as a child. He doesn’t need armies or swords or castles. Laurent only needs this. Him.

So he stays quiet. Breaths more easily as Damen’s thumb strokes soothingly over the back of his hand. Damen knows he doesn’t want to be touched or held beyond this right now, and he knows that Laurent will speak if he needs to. Allowing someone to know him so well… it’s addictive. Laurent still has trouble believing, even after all this time. How can this be his life? How can this beautiful, trusting man be his? How is he worthy of such love, after all he’s done?

Damen smiles softly and strokes Laurent’s hand until his eyes drift closed and sleep beckons. And little by little, Laurent starts to believe.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you are all safe and well. Thank you for reading! <3 <3 <3


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